


Like Breathing

by MykEsprit



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-24 23:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20022703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MykEsprit/pseuds/MykEsprit
Summary: Hermione gives in to an impulse.





	Like Breathing

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Harmony and Co's 2K Celebration. Congrats to this fabulous group! And thank you, admins, for inviting me to celebrate with you!

Kissing him made her toes curl. Not from revulsion nor ecstasy but in the way they did whenever she peered over the Astronomy Tower’s ledge—a queasy achiness in her soles, caught between an impulse to scurry back to safety and the inexplicable urge to jump.

Later, Hermione would admit to herself that she had made the first move. She had glanced at him from the corner of her eye, just like she had done countless times over the last several years, but this time—

Maybe it was the sunset —the way it h ighlighted the planes and angles of his face. There was only trace evidence of the boy she had known; beside her was a man with a touch of greatness and an air of destiny.

Perhaps it was the way he gazed back at her, his eyes like a deep pond on a hot summer day.

Whatever it was that triggered her whim, it hardly mattered—because they were now firmly on the other side of that line that was never to be crossed between platonic friends.

“Oh...bollocks,” she mumbled.

Harry grimaced. “That bad, huh?”

She parted her lips, hoping that reassuring words would spill out unheeded. But it was as if the kiss had emptied her mind of all thought except one: that she had just ruined the most important relationship in her life because she got caught up in how beautiful he looked in the sunset.

Damn that picturesque sunset, giving his face a soft glow. Damn the wind that picked up the faint, woodsy scent that clung to his skin. Damn the welcoming warmth of his arms around.

She was so busy berating herself that she hadn’t realized how the seconds ticked by; not until she felt those arms disentangle from her waist.

“All right—” Harry murmured, shoulders slumped forward.

“No, wait!” She reached for him but only caught air as he stepped back, putting space between them.

“It’s fine, Hermione. We can just pretend it never happened.” He smiled at her; a symmetrical, toothy grin that made the back of her mind itch. 

Harry’s smiles were never perfect; they were charmingly lopsided, as though he was sharing an inside joke with its lucky recipient.

But with that perfect smile, he dangled the option to return to normalcy. To a reality that existed only two minutes past, before Hermione had realized just how much of a sentimental fool she could be.

And she, like a coward, took that easy way out. “Oh. Um.” She cleared her throat. “Good. Thank you.”

His smile froze in place; he nodded curtly. “We better—” He glanced at the half-formed tent next to them.

“Right,” she muttered. “Better get our camp prepared in case any Snatchers show up.”

She rushed to the edge of the treeline, telling herself that it was a good place to set up the wards and  _ not _ because it was the furthest point away from Harry. With a shuddering breath, she raised her wand and performed the spells to protect their campsite. She could, at this point, do those spells in her sleep. However, she was in no hurry to return to the tent, and so she said the words slowly, walking a wide perimeter around their measly abode. Then, she retraced her steps, giving the wards an extra boost of protection.

Most nights, Harry would pop up the tent and hurry inside, and by the time she had finished making the wards, he would be lightly snoring on his cot. 

But as she took her time, so did he. As the last of the sun faded behind the treetops, Hermione ran out of excuses to stay away. She trudged back to the tent, where Harry was still fiddling with the anchors and the folds and flaps.

Twigs snapped under her boots. She stopped an arm’s length from where Harry kneeled on the ground, checking a knot on the corner of the tent. 

He stretched up as she approached. “Everything good?”

Hermione nodded. “Should we do something about dinner? I’m famished.”

“There’s a Muggle village about ten minutes’ walk from here,” Harry said. “We have leftover beans from this morning. We could go to the village and grab a fresh loaf of bread and why did you kiss me and I’m fine with beans on toast again for dinner, I really don’t mind.”

“What?”

In the fading light, Harry’s cheeks flushed a dark red. “Beans on toast?”

“The other thing.”

His gaze fell to the patch of grass between them. “Why did you kiss me?” 

She pointed a finger at him accusingly. “So, you do want to talk about it.”

“Of course, I do!” He raked through his tousled hair, eyes dragging up to meet hers. Confusion and something akin to hurt or betrayal flashed in them. “You just kissed me, and then immediately shut me out.”

“I did not!” She gasped. “You said we could pretend that it never happened.”

He gaped at her. “And you’re really okay with that?”

She threw her hands up in the air, glancing up at the violet sky in vexation. “What other choice is there? It’s just you and me, Harry. We are on the run, trying to survive by the skin of our teeth.” She closed her eyes and sighed; when she opened them again, she found her best friend staring at her stoically. “It’s only you and me here. There are too many things for us to do, too many thoughts that need to occupy our minds. There’s no room for ‘us’.”

For a moment, they gazed at each other in silence.

Harry inhaled loudly as if he were bucking up the courage to face Voldemort. Then, he asked, “So, why did you kiss me?” He locked his arms at his sides, fingers flexing. “If you think there’s no room for us, why did you even do it?”

She chuckled, mostly at how ridiculous the reasoning was in her head. “I just...saw you. You were there beside me, and it was a natural impulse. Like breathing.” She glanced at him, realizing for the first time: “You kissed me back. You put your arms around me, and you kissed me back.”

Harry’s gaze burned into hers; he nodded once.

“Why?” she asked.

“Like breathing,” he whispered.

Hesitantly, she took a step closer to him. When he didn’t move away, she closed the distance between them. She wrapped her hands around his forearms, feeling his muscles relax little by little at her touch. “I’m sorry.”

“About the kiss?”

She shook her head. “That I was a coward. I shouldn’t have tried to sweep us under the rug. Our friendship—” She reached up and traced his jaw with a feather-light touch. “ _ You _ deserve more than that.”

Harry huffed a quiet, self-deprecating laugh. He leaned down and rested his forehead lightly against hers. 

“We should talk about the kiss,” she murmured. With their proximity, their breaths intermingled, and the scent of his spearmint toothpaste was surprisingly enticing. “This is probably the worst possible timing for anything remotely romantic, with everything we still need to figure out—”

“We’ll talk about it,” he said roughly. He pressed closer, hands traveling down the sides of her neck, over her shoulders, and firmly settling at the small of her back. His eyes were already half-closed as a corner of his lips pulled up in a charming smile. “But, first…”

Hermione threw her arms around Harry’s neck, eyes closing in anticipation. That strange sensation came over her legs and feet again as if she was teetering on the edge of a precipice. 

And as their lips touched, Hermione decided that this was likely a sensation unique to kissing Harry Potter. He was not only the safety of solid ground, and he was not just the exhilarating jump into the unknown.

To her, he was both.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
